


this love is a suicide

by sith_shenanigans



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: AU of an AU, F/F, don't get caught spying by your sith girlfriend y'all, it can only end poorly, it's just pain, pure unadulterated pain, this isn't canon to anything don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 12:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20436134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sith_shenanigans/pseuds/sith_shenanigans
Summary: Decades after the defeat of Zakuul and the short reign of the Eternal Alliance, two facts remain.1. Legate never stopped reporting.2. Darth Nox does what she must.





	this love is a suicide

_40 ATC_  
_Dromund Kaas_

“You’re not going to do this,” Ainome said, eyes a steady, fearless glimmer. There was a faint smile on her face, even now. This was the end of the line—and she was _still_ facing it with that same damnable, unshakable confidence that had drawn Zhad’vida in nearly two decades ago. “Not even now.” She reached out a hand to brush Zhad’vida’s cheek, her smile turning into something crooked. “All the Empire will never satisfy you when I’m gone, my love,” she whispered. “You and I both know that.”

Zhad’vida smiled back, all iron and blood. “You’re right,” she purred, and ignited her lightsaber.

Time paused for a moment, and if there was a galaxy beyond these chambers—

Well, it wasn’t theirs. 

And it never would be.

“Well,” Ainome murmured, staring at the blade protruding from her gut with a distant sort of expression. “Not… about everything, it seems.” 

“No,” Zhad’vida agreed. “Perhaps not.” She fought back a sigh, fought back the urge to close her eyes—it had been a long, long time since she had last felt so numb. When was it?

A memory flickered up to the surface. 

_Ah. Yes. Ryloth._

“It’s funny, you know,” Ainome said, out of nowhere. “The cycles. I can’t get away from them.” Her lips split into a grin, and she twitched oddly—like she was trying not to laugh. “I was going to end up here eventually. I think—” She coughed and braced herself back against the wall, shivering. “I think I’m glad it was you.”

Ainome wasn’t Force sensitive. She couldn’t anchor a Force bond strong enough to share pain, that sort of thing took _power_—

Zhad’vida found herself touching a hand to her chest, feeling quite like she’d been stabbed as well. 

“I’m not,” she said, and meant it. She’d loved—she’d _trusted_—

“You’d rather it be somebody else?” Ainome asked, putting one trembling hand on Zhad’vida’s wrist. “Some anonymous mercenary, maybe, out there in the jungle? I’m hurt.”

“You haven’t been in the field for years.”

Ainome did laugh at that, little tears beading at the corners of her eyes. “That’s why I’d die, my love,” she said, with the sort of patient tone a teacher might use with a recalcitrant student. “I’m terribly out of practice these days.”

_Just end this_, Zhad’vida told herself. Sustaining her was nothing but masochism, dragging out the inevitable—as if that would hurt _less_, somehow, than getting it over with. And yet…

She turned her lightsaber off. 

“Don’t feel too bad,” Ainome said, with another weak cough. She let herself slide down to the floor, barely bothering to catch herself against the ground. “We all slow down sometime.” She lolled her head back, still grinning up at Zhad’vida. “Some of us just do it all at once.”

Zhad’vida knelt down in front of her, lekku twisting around each other and then uncoiling to lie in a heap on the carpet. “I still don’t see,” she said, threading her fingers through Ainome’s, “how you can face death with such grace.”

“I stole thirty years longer than I should have had,” Ainome said, allowing herself—as if she could do anything to resist—to be pulled away from the wall and into Zhad’vida’s arms. “It was a good way to die. Just me and my sharp tongue against a Dark Lord.”

“Are you talking about then,” Zhad’vida murmured, “or now?”

Ainome managed to shrug one shoulder, though she winced just after. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, now does it?”

Zhad’vida couldn’t have explained to herself or anyone why it mattered, but it did. With her eyes stinging, with her lekku trying to tangle themselves hopelessly into her cape—it was her turn to chuckle, and she only imagined tasting blood on her tongue. “I’m not entirely sure anything is ever going to matter again,” she admitted. No one else would ever get so close; best to air her weaknesses now, while she still had the chance and an audience who could no longer use them against her. 

“The game goes on, my love. Don’t worry.” Ainome closed her eyes and leaned back against Zhad’vida. “Just… one last thing, before I go.”

“I’m listening.”

“Don’t bury me near my brother,” she whispered. She laughed, short and sharp, and lapsed quickly into another burst of coughing.

Zhad’vida flinched like she’d been struck. “Is that _it_?” The words slipped out in a sudden burst of irritation; that was a _terrible_ last request. 

“Has to be.” Ainome’s hands weren’t soft against hers—not even after years retired from fieldwork—but her smile was gentle enough to break what was left of Zhad’vida’s heart. “I only…” She swallowed, and a shudder ran down her spine. “I hope I was—the best enemy you could ask for.”

It sounded like an echo.

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself, and I regret absolutely nothing. <s>That's a lie. I regret everything.</s>


End file.
